


now it's much too late for me to take a second look

by ashintuku



Series: fox on the run [16]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mild Language, Team as Family, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashintuku/pseuds/ashintuku
Summary: “That’s your mother’s, right?”





	now it's much too late for me to take a second look

“Where did we park that thing...” 

Peter snorted, leaning over Rocket’s chair as his friend glided over the trajectory of their crash landing not even a week ago. It was weird to think about the fact that it had only been a week, honestly – he thought it had been at _least_ a month, but no. No, it had only been one week since the Guardians had pissed off the Sovereign, Peter found his father, Yondu lost his crew, Peter _killed_ his father and found his dad, and Yondu had died. 

If it had been up to him, he’d probably still be up in the black, mulling over everything and trying to pick it apart. Why did so much happen to them in a matter of days, anyway? It was the same with Ronan and the Stone. Couldn’t they take their time for, like, once? 

“If we’re calling crash-landing into the rural woods of a planet ‘parking’, then we seriously need a new definition of the word.” 

“Hey! It wasn’t a half-bad landing for a humie,” Rocket said, baring his sharp teeth in a grin at Peter. Peter rolled his eyes but didn’t jump on the bait; he really wasn’t in the mood for it. “Oh, there we are, right where we left ‘er.” 

Rocket set the Quadrant to hover just above the crashed _Milano_ , hopping out of his seat and rolling his shoulders with an audible _crack_. Peter winced and rubbed his neck, following after his friend. Kraglin passed them on their way out of the bridge. 

“You staying up here, Kraglin?” 

“Might as well,” the Ravager said with a shrug. He was hitting the Yaka arrow against his thigh, not really meeting Peter’s eyes; looking just somewhere over his shoulder. “Someone’s gotta hit the switch t’get yer ship up here.” 

“The Quadrant has the beam?” 

“Uhm, yes?” Kraglin quirked a brow, giving Peter a look. “Why wouldn’t it?” 

“It’s just so... small, compared to the _Eclector_.” 

“Pete, kid,” Kraglin reached forward and clapped his hand on his shoulder, just like he did when he was younger. “You _know_ all ships have got beams on ‘em. I _told_ ya tha’ when you’s was little.” 

Peter blinked, wincing a bit when he heard Rocket snickering to himself, and nodded. “Right, I remember now.” 

Kraglin patted his shoulder awkwardly, shaking his head and stepping onto the bridge. Peter turned away and followed after Rocket. 

“You can stop laughing, man,” he said after a minute of listening to the other snorting to himself. “I just had a memory blank, we all get ‘em.” 

“Maybe _humies_ do – I don’t.” 

“Uh huh.” 

They got to the docking bay, where Gamora, Drax and Groot were already waiting for them. Peter gave them as much of a smile as he was in the mood to give. 

“Hope no one’s afraid of heights.” 

Drax opened his mouth to respond, only stopping when Gamora reached out and shook her head. She jerked her head to the bay doors. 

“Let’s get this over with; we have to move before someone comes to investigate why the Quadrant’s here.” 

“I used to learn how to shoot my blaster in these woods – the locals don’t give a shit what happens so long as if doesn’t affect them,” Peter said, walking over to the door controls and entering in a few buttons. It started to open, then, the sounds of the Quadrant’s thrusters outside becoming louder. 

“An M-ship is significantly smaller than the Quadrant,” Gamora said reasonably, stepping up beside Peter as they looked out over the edge. They both reached behind them to connect the aero-rig, the metal unfolding over their chests in sections. The Zen-Whoberi barely flinched when Groot was suddenly on her shoulder, clinging onto her hair and chirping ‘I am _Groot_ ’ over the noise. “Besides, the Sovereign could potentially track us down here, it’s been sitting here for a week. They’ve had time to find it and set traps.” 

“Or hire someone else to find it and set traps,” Rocket piped up, already in his rig. He looked over and up at Drax, rolling his eyes when he saw that he wasn’t in his own rig. “What’re ya gonna do, you maniac, jump from the docking bay?” 

“Yes,” Drax said, as if that were a perfectly sensible thing to do. 

“And when we hafta get back up to the Quadrant?” 

“I will go up with the _Milano_. What are we waiting for; we were just discussing how we have no time to delay.” 

With that, Drax stepped over the edge and jumped down, despite Gamora lunging forward to stop him and Rocket cussing. Peter face-palmed, rubbing his temples before groaning. 

“Alright, guys, let’s go make sure he didn’t break his legs or anything.” 

Activating their rigs, they jumped out after him. 

~+~

Peter stepped back to let Rocket and Gamora check the grounds around the _Milano_ , Rocket picking up his own traps that he’d left behind and Gamora searching for any new, foreign traps that their friend hadn’t left for any untoward visitors. 

Once it was cleared, Peter walked over to the ship, leaning down to let Groot jump from his palm onto the ground so that the little floral colossus could explore. He then walked straight into the ship, going towards his quarters. 

Everything was where he’d left it – everything he hadn’t taken to Ego, in any case. Both of his cassettes and his Walkman were gone, crushed or destroyed in his father’s self-implosion, but he’d left a few things behind. His rocket boots, which hadn’t seen much action since the Battle of Xandar, for one, and a couple of the trinkets he’d collected over the years, both legally and otherwise. 

But he was looking for one very specific thing, and so he got to work digging. 

“I’m surprised the Ravagers left everything pretty much intact,” Gamora said after a few minutes of everyone going through their things, ensuring nothing had been stolen when the mutineers had gone through the _Milano_ to grab Groot. Drax had opted to stay outside, seeing as he had taken everything to Ego and had therefore lost it all. 

(They’d gotten him necessities since then, a quick few stops here and there to inhabited planets, but the only thing Drax really cared about was his knives. They had been a gift to him from his wife, and he still had them, strapped to his calves as they always were.) 

“That was a combination effort ‘tween me and Kraglin,” Rocket said from the cockpit, going through their databanks to check for tampering, any other trackers, and the schematics for the ship. “Kraglin told ‘em that they really didn’t have the time to be goin’ through our shit, and I had ‘em half-convinced the entire thing was booby trapped.” 

Gamora hummed, and Peter pulled out his Zune. He put on the earbuds, feeling a bit too exposed over having his ears uncovered, and pressed play; a random song he vaguely recognized from when he’d been younger playing. 

He’d left his things in a bit of a mess, but he knew he would have been careful with this one thing. He tried not to bring it with him on missions too many times in case it got creased or ripped, but he tried to keep it safely hidden away so that Groot wouldn’t find it and accidentally rip it, either. 

He’d just been in a bit of a hurry, really, trying to pack to go to Ego, he hadn’t really thought about how he was leaving his room. 

Fingers touched soft, age-worn paper, and Peter sighed out in relief. 

Gently pulling the envelope from where it was tucked between his bunk and the wall, he checked it over to make sure there was no damage before opening it and pulling out his mom’s letter. 

It still had the faintest hint of her perfume with an undertone of medicinal chemicals. He was just thankful the pen hadn’t faded too badly over the years of him dragging it around. 

A hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched, tugging out an earbud and looking up to see Gamora looking down at the letter; her face at once curious and understanding. 

“That’s your mother’s, right?” 

Peter swallowed, pausing his Zune and tugging out the other earbud; the player sitting on his lap, a smaller, less bulky weight than his Walkman. It was still unfamiliar, but he thought he could maybe get used to it. 

“Last thing she ever gave me,” he said, holding it up. After a moment, Gamora took it from him; carefully scanning over the words. He took it back with a smile. “I know, it’s not in Galactic Common – dunno how much you could actually read.” 

“I’ve learned some, living with you these past few months,” Gamora said, smiling faintly. Peter nodded, and she hesitated. She reached out and pressed her hand to his shoulder, squeezing again. “You seemed very determined to find it.” 

“...S’all I got left of her,” Peter said, frowning faintly. “Ego destroyed everything else. I still have her songs, but not the tapes she put together for me.” He folded the letter again carefully, putting it back in the envelope and running his fingers over the front. “Ego just... he killed my mom and squished my Walkman and all I got left is this... friggin’ _letter_.” 

Gamora sat down on the bunk next to him, looking at him contemplatively. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, then, and after a moment Peter leaned into her, sighing. 

“I have nothing of my mother and father,” she said after a moment, cheek resting against his head. “Only my memories and those fade every year. I’m glad you can have even this to remind you of her.” She paused again, reaching over and grabbing the Zune. “Just as I am glad you have this to remind you of him.” 

Peter took the Zune from her hands, holding it against the letter; two reminders of two very different parents, both of whom had loved him in their own, flawed ways. He smiled a little. 

“Yeah... thanks.” 

“Alright, losers, got everything?” Rocket walked into the room, pausing when he saw Gamora and Peter sitting together. Peter watched him take in the entire scene, before he rolled his eyes and waved a paw at them. “Make with the cuddlin’ _after_ we get our prized hunk of scrap back on the Quadrant, would ya? Unless you wanna travel through the beam like Drax?” 

“We’re good,” Peter said, pulling away and standing up. Gamora stood with him, grabbing the bag of her belongings she’d put down when she had come up to Peter. Peter tucked the letter into his coat, the Zune clipped to his belt, and he grabbed a few other knickknacks he could shove into his pockets before they left the ship and Drax. Groot sat on Drax’s shoulder, kicking his legs out; his heels hitting Drax over and over. The larger man barely seemed to notice. 

“Groot, you stayin’ with Drax?” 

“I am Groot!” 

“Alright, buddy, hope you have fun in the beam.” 

Groot waved at them just before a soft yellow light engulfed them, and the _Milano_ was slowly dragged up towards the Quadrant. 

Once Kraglin gave the all clear, Rocket activated his rig and flew up after them. Gamora went to follow, only pausing when she noticed Peter still staring up at where the _Milano_ had been; expression far away. 

“Peter?” 

Blinking, he looked over at Gamora, smiling and shaking his head. 

“I’m good, Gamora. Let’s go home.” 

She regarded him carefully, nodding slowly. 

“Okay.”


End file.
